


What They Say

by fallenflowercrowns



Series: New York (kind words to a broken heart) [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Boys In Love, Chance Meetings, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Established Relationship, In a way, M/M, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 18:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenflowercrowns/pseuds/fallenflowercrowns
Summary: Manuel only wanted to enjoy his impromptu holiday with Thomas. Instead, they get trapped in an elevator with two enigmatic Englishmen. Or, a chance meeting.





	What They Say

**Author's Note:**

> This is Manuel's POV on the events of the previous part of this series, _No Matter What_ where he and Thomas get trapped in an elevator with an English couple. 
> 
> It's an attempt to bring my past and current most important OTP together for one short story, to once and for all end things with one fandom and emphasize the love I have for my current one. 
> 
> This can easily be read as a standalone fic; it's not technically a crossover, since these two couples are and stay strangers to each other. Unbeta'd, so please notify me if you find any spelling- or other mistakes that bother you! I hope you enjoy ♡

It’s refreshing, walking through a city where almost no one knows you, even if they sky is overcast and the temperature not as high as you hoped it to be.

Of course, there are the tourists who might not be as oblivious when it came to their kind of football, but somehow, they seem to just have accepted him and Thomas as of their own kind; none of them paying them any attention, instead they busy themselves taking selfies, staring at the skyscrapers in awe or taking pictures of landmarks.

So, they had done the same. (It’s nice, being able to scroll through the images on his phone, not having to worry about anyone seeing the picture where Thomas kisses his cheek, his own eyes crinkled up.)

It took Manuel a while until he dared to hold Thomas’ hand in public, but now that he’s gotten accustomed to the feeling, it’s hard to let go of it. He feels like a teenager again – which actually is a lie because he didn’t know that feeling of being so in love that it made you giddy before Thomas – and his knees go weak whenever his boyfriend smiles at him.

They’ve been out all day, savouring every minute of their spontaneous trip to the fullest.

It was Thomas’ idea originally; they weren’t used to long holidays, and after having lounged around Manu’s house for weeks to come, with the only thing to do being each other, occasional work-outs and short hikes (where they had to keep a socially acceptable distance, of course), he randomly decided that they were in dire need of a change of scenery.

Curiously, neither of them have been to New York before. It is a big city, anonymous and full of history and culture, with enough things to do for several weeks, even if they only planned to stay for three days.

Yesterday, they fell into bed happily but completely exhausted, too tired for anything but snuggling up together on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Today, they’re back from dinner a bit earlier, having decided to skip on drinks this time (their fitness coach would approve) and head back to the hotel instead.

The air between them had been charged ever since they’d accidentally and then not-so-accidentally bumped their knees under the table, which lead to Thomas stroking Manuel’s thigh and Manu’s cheeks blushing.

By the time they enter the lobby, Manuel’s can feel his skin throb with excitement and judging by the glances he can see Thomas stealing out of the corner of his eyes, he knows that he’s not the only one.

So, he’s really not all that surprised when as soon as the elevator door closes behind them, Thomas presses him against the wall, connecting their lips in a heated, open-mouthed kiss.

Manu doesn’t bother suppressing a moan when he Thomas catches his lower lip between his, gently biting it, shuddering in arousal.

They spring apart as if they were struck by lightning when the elevator doors suddenly open again. As he freezes in embarrassment, even more heat rushing to his cheeks, Manu silently curses Thomas for forgetting to press the button for their floor.

He casts him a quick glance, and of course Thomas is smirking, probably not sorry at all, even if he has the decency to look slightly bashful.

“Evening,” one of the two men in front of the elevator says. His accent is British, and he’s wearing a very extravagant burgundy suit with a subtle flower print that probably cost a fortune. He looks a bit displeased, his eyebrows knitted together.

The other is notably shorter, dressed in jeans and and a big, comfortable looking sweater. He gives Manu an asserting glance, noting his flushed cheeks with the corner of his lips twitching, which becomes full out grin once he turns to Thomas.

Manu’s heart drops, the bubble of these past two days bursting with an inaudible ‘plop’.

Remembering the fears that are usually, back home, his daily companions, he suddenly doesn’t even know what he is more scared of: being recognized or people realizing that he and Thomas are an item. He doesn’t dare to think about what the consequences would be if it was both.

Thankfully, the young man – maybe in his mid-twenties – doesn’t comment as he enters the cabin, his companion following suit, but Manu can still feel the worry poisoning his mind as he pointedly stares at his shoes, trying to avoid the strangers’ eyes. He doesn’t dare to steal a look at Thomas either, even if he desperately wants to reach out, grab his hand. Also, he’s pretty sure he can sense a pair of eyes resting on him, but that only might just be his paranoia speaking.

He startles when the elevator comes to an abrupt halt.

Manu shares a quick glance with Thomas while the one in the burgundy suit exclaims a confused “Wha’?”

Thomas furrows his eyebrows. It takes a few seconds for anyone to make a move and in the end, it’s him who takes the initiative, pressing the alarm button.

“Hello?” he says into the intercom, “Hello, I think we’re stuck.”

There is no answer. Thomas shrugs apologetically, glancing back at the three of them before taking back his place by Manu’s side. Manu’s fingers twitch.

The shorter of the two men shoots them another indefinable look before stepping forward, jabbing the button again. He clears his throat, and already Manu can tell that he’s quite annoyed. (Secretly he’s glad that he’s now got something else to focus on but him and Thomas.)

“Hello, anyone there?”

Nothing happens.

“Listen, pal, we’re stuck here, so we’d really appreciate some help.” Apparently, he’s from England as well, his accent thicker than the other’s.

They all stare at the intercom, but still, there’s no reply. The Englishman huffs. His companion frowns, trying to push him aside, but the short one manages to catch him by the elbow just before.

“Leave it Haz, it’s no use,” he says as he nudges him away from the intercom.

Manu raises an eyebrow. Before, he hasn’t been too sure of the two of them even knew each other. But there’s a familiarity in that touch, in what he supposes is a nickname, and the quick look the two exchange. Then, suddenly, both of them pull away as if they were burned.

For a few minutes, they all stand around awkwardly. It’s the shorter of the two men who lets himself slide down the wall of the elevator first, groaning. After a moment of hesitation, Thomas joins him, tugging at Manu’s sleeve, prompting him to sit down next to him.

Their knees bump against each other, Manu’s shoulder brushes against Thomas’. Their fingers are only half an inch away from touching each other, and once more Manu longs, aches to lace them together; to feel Thomas’ slender, warm fingers in between his sturdier ones.

Instead, he opts for gifting him a small smile, one that Thomas returns with such tenderness that it makes Manuel’s stomach feel fuzzy even after more than a year of being with him.

The second Englishman is still standing, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Manuel is almost relieved when he notices that his concentrated stare only swiftly flicks over him and Thomas before instead focusing on his companion.

He would probably wonder what they are to each other, but is distracted when Thomas tugs at his sleeve again, leaning closer just as Burgundy Suit lets out a frustrated groan before sitting down as well, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“ _Do you think they know who we are?_ ” Thomas whispers in German. Somehow, it’s comforting to realize that he’s concerned as well.

Manu shakes his head. “ _I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure we would have gotten quite different stares if they did. And they probably would have asked for an autograph._ ”

Most Americans might have no clue when it came to association football, but the English are a whole other story, as obsessed with the beautiful game as they often are.

Thomas hums pensively, casting their two cabinmates another glance before giving Manu a crooked smile. By the way his hand twitches, Manu can tell that he longs to reach out for him as well. Manu craves it too, finds Thomas’ touch to be comforting, soothing. He’s grown almost dependent on it when it came to calming his nerves. More than once, they’ve resorted to sharing extensive hugs before important games, finding that it helped both of them focus, being able to take a quiet moment for themselves before walking out on the field.

Sometimes, he wonders if it’s straining the boundaries of how friends are supposed to act, but so far no one has questioned it.

He flinches a little when he finds Thomas’ fingers quickly ghosting over the back of his hand before immediately pulling away again.

“ _Are you okay, though? You look a bit spooked._ ”

Manu hesitates, then nods. “ _Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just,_ ” he sighs. “ _I’m pretty sure he realized that we were kissing just before._ ”

A small grin spreads on Thomas’ face. “ _And so what? If they don’t know who we are, it should be no problem at all. In fact,”_ he leans in a bit more, lowering his voice, _“I kinda like it. People knowing you’re mine._ ”

Manu ducks his head, feeling his cheeks flush again, cursing his complexion.

He doesn’t dare peek at Thomas again, knowing that he’s likely still smiling that incredible smile. The one that makes his knees go weak and his heart beat faster. Instead, he turns to just wordlessly staring holes into the wall.

When the shorter of the strangers speaks up, it comes unexpectedly.

“So what are you two in New York for, then?” he asks, tilting his head curiously.

Manu stares at him with wide eyes; when glancing at Thomas out of the corner of his eyes, he sees that he does the same. Of course, even if he is usually a chatterbox if Manu ever met one, this time, he stubbornly keeps his mouth shut.

The silence quickly grows uncomfortable, crawling up Manuel’s skin, especially after Burgundy Suit opened his eyes as well, openly studying him and Thomas.

“Holidays,” Manu finally mutters when no one else says anything, fixing his stare on the carpet in front of him.

“Ahh, romantic getaway?” The stranger sounds way too cheerful. The words send a cold wave through Manuel and he can feel his shoulders tighten, as his cheeks grow warmer.

Of course, Thomas joked about it only minutes before, and he expected that the strangers might have suspected what had happened in the elevator seconds before they’d arrived. But it’s daunting to have his suspicion confirmed; it’s different when his biggest secret is suddenly out in the open like that, in the hands of a stranger with a mischievous laugh and calculating eyes.

He almost wants to punch Thomas when his boyfriend only barks out a surprised little laugh instead of denying it.

“Is it that easy to tell?”

Manu desperately wants the answer to be no.

The tension doesn’t ease when the Englishman shrugs it off with a fanciful wave of his hand, accompanied by a charming smile that looks rehearsed.

He’s a strong character, this one, Manu decides, used to taking up all the attention in a room. It’s surprising when he falters suddenly, as if thrown out of the loop, a few cracks appearing on his persona.

His voice is not as steady anymore as he continues, carefully glancing at Manu.

“Nah mate, don’t worry. It’s just that you learn what to look for, when you have to be careful of these things, yourself.”

The relief washes over Manu like a wave. And when he studies this man opposite of him, probably a few years younger than himself, he notices how his eyes belong to someone much older, someone who’s grown tired, wary of the world.

It’s only now that he notices the way he looks at Burgundy Suit, with a longing so deep and painful that it’s almost hurts to look at it.

‘Oh,’ Manu thinks. He guesses that makes an awful lot of sense, even if it doesn’t really make the situation any more bearable.

He’s still observing the younger man and how his companion – his lover? – stubbornly refuses to look at him, when the elevator suddenly comes back to life again.

He rushes to get to his feet, even after his revelation still eager to escape. He offers Thomas a hand, pulling up. He can feel him wanting to pull away again, but Manuel stops him, only holding on even tighter, giving his hand a squeeze.

Thomas’ answering smile is unusually insecure. He hesitates, turning back to the two men in the elevator, giving them last glance. Manu can see that he almost wants to say something, but instead only shakes his head, wriggling his hand free of Manu’s grip.

Manu’s still frozen on the spot. He looks eyes with the shorter of the two strangers, and for the first time Manu notices his bright blue eyes and the dark brown of his hair.

In a way, he reminds him of himself, of a much more strained, desperate version of him. In Him, he sees himself before Thomas confessed that he returned his feelings, sees the man he could have become if that had never happened.

For the first time, he really sees him, this strange young man with the look of someone who has gone through more than most people his age.

When the brunet nods at him, there is an understanding in his eyes. It’s laced with sadness, but there is hope in his smile, even if it’s so small it’s barely more than a twitch of his lips.

It’s that smile that makes the rest of the tension in Manuel’s shoulders fall away, and suddenly, he knows that he’s got nothing to worry about. Even if they knew who him and Thomas are, if they found out, he’s sure that they wouldn’t tell anyone.

Somehow, inexplicably, he knows that their secret is safe with them.

He returns the nod with a smile. And when he turns around to follow Thomas’ retreating back he can’t walk fast enough, eager to catch up with him, to reunite with his arms once again.

His worry is all but forgotten when he closes the door of their room behind him, carelessly throwing his jacket to the side as he walks up to Thomas with a few long strides.

Thomas makes a startled noise when he eagerly presses their lips together, gently pushing at Manu’s chest to get a bit of space between them.

“ _Langsam, mein Herz,_ ” he chuckles. “ _What has prompted this, huh?_ ”

Manu leans in again, nosing his cheek before kissing him once more.

“ _I love you._ ”

He doesn’t say it a lot. Not as often as he should, and not as casually as Thomas, who is fond of declaring his love for him every few hours.

(Whenever Manuel makes a particularly good save in training, whenever he prepares dinner for them, every time they see each other again after being separated for more than a couple hours. Thomas hands out his love declarations like other people do thank yous. It took Manu an awful lot of time to realize that they were only ever directed at him.)

But when the smile that blossoms on Thomas face is so bright it could outshine the sun, he knows that even if he doesn’t say them a lot, Manuel’s words mean just as much to him.

(And his smile quickly turns into a smirk as he pulls him close.)

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * For anyone who might be curious, the couple they encounter are Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, members of the (in)famous former British boyband One Direction
>   * Italicized text indicates Manu and Thomas speaking German
>   * "Langsam, mein Herz" = "Slow down, my heart"
>   * Title again from _An Englishman in New York_ (to form the lyric 'no matter what they say')
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


End file.
